# Claiming The Captain's Baby

Rochelle Alers

Former army captain Giles Wainwright is shocked to learn he has a daughter and even more shocked at how attracted he is to her adoptive mother, Mya Lawson.But Mya doesn't trust Giles's motives and he will have to work hard if he wants to claim Mya's love.

His Daughter’s Guardian

Former marine captain Giles Wainwright had seen his share of battles. When the military man turned multimillionaire learned he had a baby girl, he vowed to go to war to keep her. But Mya Lawson had her late sister’s last will and testament on her side and was prepared to fight for custody.

Mya was only following her sister’s last wishes to have Lily raised in their childhood hometown. She’d grant Giles the visitation he was due. Yet as he dropped his arrogant stance and made Lily his priority, Mya’s guarded emotions were swayed. Giles’s offer of marriage to make them a true family was tremendously tempting. But was his proposal genuine or a bid to claim Lily forever?

Mya placed her hand over Giles’s. “Are you living out your dream?”

A mysterious smile tilted the corners of his mouth. “I am. Before I met you, my sole focus was on work, and the harder I worked, the more I was able to convince myself that I didn’t need or want anyone to share my life.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “Meeting you has proven me wrong. Not only do I want you, but I need you.”

Mya closed her eyes, too stunned to cry. Men had told her they needed her, but those were glibly spoken words they believed she wanted to hear. She felt his hand shake slightly under hers and in that instant she was aware of the power she wielded over Giles. That he’d shown her vulnerability for the first time.

“I need you, too.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

* * *

American Heroes: They’re coming home—and finding love!

Claiming the Captain’s

Baby

Rochelle Alers


www.millsandboon.co.uk

Since 1988, national bestselling author ROCHELLE ALERS has written more than eighty books and short stories. She has earned numerous honors, including the Zora Neale Hurston Literary Award, the Vivian Stephens Award for Excellence in Romance Writing and a Career Achievement Award from RT Book Reviews. She is a member of Zeta Phi Beta Sorority, Inc., Iota Theta Zeta Chapter. A full-time writer, she lives in a charming hamlet on Long Island. Rochelle can be contacted through her website, www.rochellealers.org.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Mya Lawson sat staring out the window in her home office as she waited for the pages she had revised to fill the printer’s tray. She was still amazed that she had come up with yet another plot for her fictional New England series. What had begun as a hobby for Mya was now a vocation since she gave up her position as college professor to become a stay-at-home mother.

The sound of the printer spitting out paper competed with the incessant tapping of rain against the windows. It had begun raining earlier that morning and had continued nonstop throughout the midafternoon. Mya knew it was an indoor play day for Lily once she woke from her nap. An unconscious smile parted her lips when her gaze lingered on the oak tree shading the backyard. Mya lost count of the number of times she and her sister hid behind the massive trunk or climbed the thick branches once they were older while playing hide-and-seek with their mother. Although aware of their hiding places, Veronica Lawson elected to play along much to the delight of her rambunctious daughters. But as they grew older the game stopped because Veronica claimed she did not have the energy to chase after them.

An expression of melancholy sweeping over Mya’s features replaced her smile. She and seven-month-old Lily were the last of the Wickham Falls Lawsons. What she found ironic was that neither she nor Lily shared DNA with their namesake ancestors. Graham and Veronica Lawson, after more than twenty years of a childless marriage, had decided to adopt. They adopted Mya, and then two years later Samantha joined the family.

Mya exhaled an audible sigh. Her parents were gone, Samantha was gone, and now there was only she and her niece.

Her sister wanted Mya to raise Lily in Wickham Falls—a small town with a population of little more than four thousand residents—even though Samantha had complained about growing up in a small town and couldn’t wait to grow up and leave to see the world. She got her wish once she began her career as a flight attendant and got to visit many of the cities and countries she had fantasized about.

Sammie, as Mya always called her, had died a month ago and Mya was still attempting to adjust to the loss and her life without her sister. Sammie had returned to Wickham Falls for a rare visit with the news that she was six weeks pregnant. She told Mya of her affair with a New York City businessman, and despite using protection, she’d gotten pregnant. Her sister refused to disclose the name of her lover or tell him about the baby because he had been adamant when he told her he wasn’t ready for marriage or fatherhood.

The sudden ring of the telephone shattered her reverie. Unconsciously her brow furrowed when she recognized the name of the law firm that had handled Sammie’s will. She picked up the receiver before the second ring.

“Hello.”

“Ms. Mya Lawson?”

Mya nodded before she realized the person on the other end of the line could not see her. “Yes. This is she.”

“Ms. Lawson, I’m Nicole Campos, Mr. McAvoy’s assistant. He’d like you to keep your calendar open for next Thursday because he needs you to come into the office to discuss your daughter’s future.”

Her frown deepened. “Ms. Campos, can you give me an idea of what he wants to talk about?”

“I’m sorry, but I cannot reveal that information over the telephone.”

Twin emotions of annoyance and panic gripped her. She did not want to relive the anxiety she had experienced before the court finalized her adopting her niece. “What time on Thursday?”

“Eleven o’clock. I’ll call you the day before as a reminder and follow-up with an email.”

Mya exhaled an inaudible sigh. “Thank you.”

She hadn’t realized her hand was shaking when she replaced the receiver in the console. Leaning back in the desk chair, she combed her fingers through a wealth of brown curly hair with natural gold highlights, holding it off her forehead.

There never had been a question that she would lose Lily to the foster care system because her sister had drawn up a will that included a clause naming Mya as legal guardian for her unborn baby.

A week after Sammie gave birth to a beautiful dark-haired infant, she handed Lily to Mya with the pronouncement that she wanted Mya to raise her daughter as her own. At first she thought Sammie was experiencing postpartum depression, but nothing could have prepared her for the reality that her younger sister was terminally ill.

Sammie had been diagnosed with an aggressive form of breast cancer. Mya put up a brave front for her sister because she needed to be strong for her, but whenever she was alone she could not stop crying. The young, beautiful, vivacious thirty-two-year-old woman who was in love with life was dying and there was nothing she could do to help her.

Gurgling sounds came from the baby monitor on a side table. Mya glanced at the screen where she could observe her daughter. It was after three and Lily was awake.

Pushing back her chair, she rose and walked out of the office and down the hall to the nursery. Lily was standing up in her crib. She’d sat up at five months, began crawling at six and now at seven was able to pull up and stand, but only holding onto something. It was as if her precocious daughter was in a hurry to walk before her first birthday.

Months before Lily’s birth, Mya and Sammie spent hours selecting furniture and decorating the room that would become the nursey. The colors of sage green and pale pink were repeated in blankets, quilts and in the colorful border along the antique-white walls.

“Hey, doll baby. Did you have a good nap?”

A squeal of delight filled the space when the baby raised her chubby arms to be picked up. The instant she let go of the railing, Lily landed hard on her bottom but didn’t cry. Mya reached over the rail of the crib and scooped her up while scrunching up her nose. She dropped a kiss on damp, inky-black curls. “Somebody needs changing.”

Lily pushed out her lips in an attempt to mirror Mya’s expression. Mya smiled at the beautiful girl with long dark lashes framing a pair of large sky blue eyes. Lily looked nothing like Sammie, so it was obvious she had inherited her father’s hair and eye color.

She placed her on the changing table and took off the damp onesie and then the disposable diaper. At thirty-four, Mya had not planned on becoming a mother, yet learned quickly. She’d read countless books on feedings, teething, potty training and the average milestones for crawling, walking and talking. She had childproofed the house—all the outlets were covered, there were safety locks on the kitchen cabinets and drawers, wires secured off the floor, and all furniture with sharp edges were placed out of the way.

She gathered Lily in her arms and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You’re getting heavy.”

Lily grabbed several strands of Mya’s hair as she carried her down the staircase to the kitchen. “If you keep pulling my hair, I’ll be forced to get extensions.” She had made it a habit to either style her hair in a single braid or ponytail because her daughter appeared transfixed by the profusion of curls resembling a lion’s mane.

She entered the kitchen and placed Lily in her high chair. Opening the refrigerator, she took out a bottle of milk and filled a sippy cup. Lily screamed in delight when handed the cup.

Mya felt a warm glow flow through her as she watched Lily drink. Her daughter’s life would mirror her biological mother’s and her aunt’s. She would grow up not knowing her birth mother, but Mya had started a journal chronicling the baby’s milestones, photographs of Sammie and a collection of postcards from the different cities and countries her sister had visited. Once Lily was old enough to understand that her aunt wasn’t her biological mother, Mya would reveal the circumstances of her birth.

* * *

“Giles, Brandt is on line two.”

The voice of Giles Wainwright’s administrative assistant coming through the intercom garnered his attention. He had spent the past twenty minutes going over the architect’s rendering and the floor plan of six three-bedroom, two-bath homes on an island in the Bahamas he had recently purchased for the international division of Wainwright Developers Group.

He tapped a button on the intercom. “Thank you, Jocelyn.” He activated the speaker feature as he leaned back in the executive chair and rested his feet on the corner of the antique desk. “What’s up, cousin?”

“I’m calling to let you know Ciara and I have finally set a date for our wedding.”

Brandt “The Viking” Wainwright’s professional football career was cut short when he broke both legs in an automobile accident. Sidelined for the season and confined to his penthouse suite, Brandt had had a revolving door of private duty nurses before no-nonsense Ciara Dennison refused to let him bully her. In the end, Brandt realized he had met his match and his soul mate.

“Finally,” Giles teased. “When is it?”

“We’ve decided on February 21 at the family resort in the Bahamas. It’s after the Super Bowl, and that week the schools are out for winter break. And if adults want to bring their kids, then the more the merrier.”

Giles smiled. “I’m certain you won’t find an argument from the kids who’d rather hang out on a tropical beach than ski upstate.”

Brandt’s deep chuckle came through the speaker. “You’re probably right about that. Ciara’s mailing out the Save the Week notice to everyone. If the family is amenable to spending the week in the tropics, then I’ll make arrangements to reserve several villas to accommodate everyone.”

Giles listened as Brandt talked about their relatives choosing either to fly down on the corporate jet that seated eighteen, or sail down on the Mary Catherine, the Wainwright family yacht. Giles preferred sailing as his mode of transportation, because two to three times a month he flew down to the Bahamas to meet with the broker overseeing the sale of two dozen private islands now owned by Wainwright Developers Group International, or WDG, Inc.

The conversation segued to the news that there would be another addition to the Wainwright clan when Jordan and his wife, Aziza, welcomed their first child in the coming weeks.

Giles lowered his feet and sat straight when Jocelyn Lewis knocked softly on the door and stuck her head through the opening. She held an envelope in one hand.

Giles beckoned her in. “Hold on, Brandt, I need to get something from my assistant.”

“I know you’re busy, Giles, so I’ll talk to you later,” Brandt said.

“Give Ciara my love.”

“I’ll tell her.”

Giles ended the call, stood up and took the letter from Jocelyn’s outstretched hand. He thought of the woman as a priceless diamond after he had gone through a number of assistants in the four years since he’d started up the overseas division. Within minutes of Giles interviewing her, he had known Jocelyn was the one. At forty-six, she had left her position as director of a childcare center because she wanted to experience the corporate world. What prompted Giles to hire her on the spot was her admission that she’d taken several courses to become proficient in different computer programs.

He met the eyes of the woman who only recently had begun wearing makeup after terminating her membership with a church that frowned on women wearing pants and makeup. The subtle shade of her lipstick complemented the yellow undertones in her flawless mahogany complexion. “Who delivered this?” he asked, when he noticed that the stamp and the postmark were missing. Personal and Confidential was stamped below the addressee, while the return address indicated a Wickham Falls, West Virginia, law firm.

Jocelyn’s eyebrows lifted slightly behind a pair of horn-rimmed glasses. “George brought it up. He said it came with this morning’s FedEx delivery.”

Giles nodded. “Thank you.” All mail for the company was left at the front desk. The receptionist signed for documents requiring a signature, and then she alerted the mail room where George logged in and distributed letters and packages to their respective departments.

Jocelyn hesitated and met her boss’s eyes. “I just want to remind you that I’ll be in late tomorrow morning. I have to renew my driver’s license.”

He nodded. Jocelyn had saved his department thousands when she redesigned the website from ordinary to extraordinary with photos of Bahamian-Caribbean-style homes on private islands with breathtaking views of the Atlantic Ocean and others with incredibly pristine Caribbean beaches.

Waiting until she walked out of the office and closed the door behind her, Giles sat down and slid a letter opener under the flap of the envelope. A slight frown settled into his features when he read and reread the single page of type. He was being summoned to the reading of a will. The letter did not indicate to whom the will belonged, but requested he call to confirm his attendance.

Picking up the telephone receiver, he tapped the area code and then the numbers. “This is Giles Wainwright,” he said, introducing himself when the receptionist identified the name of the law firm. “I have a letter from your firm requesting my presence at the reading of a will this coming Thursday.”

There came a pause. “Please hold on, Mr. Wainwright, while I connect you to Mr. McAvoy’s office.”

Giles drummed his fingers on the top of the mahogany desk with a parquetry inlay.

“Mr. Wainwright, I’m Nicole Campos, Mr. McAvoy’s assistant. Are you calling to confirm your attendance?”

“I can’t confirm until I know who named me in their will.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Wainwright, but I cannot disclose that at this time.”

He went completely still. “You expect me to fly from New York to West Virginia on a whim?”

“It’s not a whim, Mr. Wainwright. Someone from your past indicated your name in a codicil to their will. If you choose not to come, then we’ll consider the matter settled.”

Giles searched his memory for someone he’d met who had come from West Virginia. The only person that came to mind was a soldier under his command when they were deployed to Afghanistan.

Corporal John Foley had lost an eye when the Humvee in which he was riding was hit by shrapnel from a rocket-propelled grenade. The young marine was airlifted to a base hospital, awarded a purple heart and eventually medically discharged. Giles prayed that John, who had exhibited signs of PTSD, hadn’t taken his life like too many combat veterans.

He stared at the framed pen and ink and charcoal drawings of iconic buildings in major US cities lining the opposite wall. A beat passed as he contemplated whether he owed it to John or his family to reconnect with their past.

“Okay, Ms. Campos. I’ll be there.”

He could almost imagine the woman smiling when she said, “Thank you, Mr. Wainwright.”

Giles hung up and slumped down in the chair. He had just come back from the Bahamas two days ago, and he was looking forward to sleeping in his own bed for more than a week and hopefully catch up on what was going on with his parents and siblings.

Most days found him working in his office hours after other employees had gone home. It was when he spent time on the phone with his Bahamas-based broker negotiating the purchase of several more uninhabited islands. Other days were spent in weekly meetings with department heads and dinner meetings in the company’s private dining room with the officers and managers—all of whom were Wainwrights by bloodline or had married into the family.

Wainwright Developers Group was the second largest real estate company in the northeast, and everyone associated with the company was committed to maintaining that position or bringing them to number one.

Swiveling on his chair, he sent Jocelyn an email, outlining his travel plans for the following Thursday. Giles had no idea where Wickham Falls, West Virginia, was, but in another week he would find out.

* * *

Giles deplaned after the jet touched down at the Charleston, West Virginia, airport. A town car awaited his arrival. Jocelyn had arranged for a driver to take him to Wickham Falls. She had also called a hotel to reserve a suite because he did not have a timetable as to when he would return to New York.

The trunk to the sedan opened, and seconds later the driver got out and approached him.

“Mr. Wainwright?”

Giles nodded. “Yes.” He handed the man his suitcase and a leather case with his laptop.

When he’d boarded the jet, Giles had experienced a slight uneasiness because he still could not fathom what he would encounter once he arrived. He had racked his brain about possible scenarios and still couldn’t dismiss the notion that something had happened to John Foley.

He removed his suit jacket, slipped into the rear of the car, stretched out his legs and willed his mind blank. When Jocelyn confirmed his travel plans, she informed him that Wickham Falls was an hour’s drive from the state capital. Ten minutes into the ride, he closed his eyes and didn’t open them again until the driver announced they were in Wickham Falls. Reaching for his jacket, he got out and slipped his arms into the sleeves.

“I’m not certain how long the meeting is going to take,” he said to the lanky driver wearing a black suit that appeared to be a size too big.

“Not a problem, Mr. Wainwright. I’ll wait here.”

Giles took a quick glance at his watch. He was thirty minutes early. His gaze took in Wickham Falls’s business district, and he smiled.

It was the epitome of small-town Americana. The streets were lined with mom-and-pop shops all sporting black-and-white awnings and flying American flags. Cars were parked diagonally in order to maximize space. It was as if Wickham Falls was arrested in time and that modernization had left it behind more than fifty years before. There was no fast-food restaurant or major drug store chain. To say the town was quaint was an understatement.

He noted a large red, white and blue wreath suspended from a stanchion in front of a granite monument at the end of the street. A large American flag was flanked by flags representing the armed forces. Giles knew it was a monument for military veterans.

He strolled along the sidewalk to see if John Foley’s name was on the monument. There were names of servicemen who’d served in every war beginning with the Spanish–American War to the present. There was one star next to the names of those who were missing in action, and two stars for those who’d died in combat. Although he was relieved not to find the corporal’s name on the marker, it did little to assuage his curiosity as to why he had been summoned to Wickham Falls.

As he retraced his steps, Giles wasn’t certain whether he would be able to live in a small town. He was born, grew up and still lived in the Big Apple, and if he wanted or needed something within reason, all he had to do was pick up the telephone.

He opened the solid oak door to the law firm and walked into the reception area of the one-story, salmon-colored stucco building. He met the eyes of the middle-aged woman sporting a ’60s beehive hairstyle, sitting at a desk behind a closed glass partition. She slid it open with his approach. His first impression was correct: the town and its inhabitants were stuck in time.

“May I help you, sir?”

Giles flashed a friendly smile. “I’m Giles Wainwright, and I have an appointment at eleven to meet with Mr. McAvoy.”

She returned his smile. “Well, good morning, Mr. Wainwright. Please have a seat and I’ll have someone escort you to the conference room.”

He nodded. “Thank you.”

Giles did not bother to sit on the leather sofa, but stood with both hands clasped behind his back. He had sat enough that morning. First it was in the car heading for the airport, then all through the flight and again during the drive from the airport to Wickham Falls. He had altered his normal morning routine of taking the elevator in his high-rise apartment building to the lower level to swim laps in the Olympic-size pool.

Swimming and working out helped him to relax, while maintaining peak physical conditioning from his time in the military. Going from active duty to spending most of his day sitting behind a desk had been akin to culture shock for Giles, and it had taken him more than a year to fully adjust to life as a civilian.

“Mr. Wainwright?”

He turned when he recognized the voice of the woman who’d called him. “Ms. Campos.”

The petite, dark-haired woman with a short, pixie hairstyle extended her hand. “Yes.”

Giles took her hand and was slightly taken aback when he noticed a small tattoo with USMC on the underside of her wrist. He successfully concealed a smile. It was apparent she had been in the Marine Corps. “Semper fi,” he said sotto voce.

Nicole Campos smiled. “Are you in the Corps?”

He shook his head. “I proudly served for ten years.”

“I was active duty for fifteen years, and once I got out I decided to go to law school. I’d love to chat with you, Mr. Wainwright, but you’re needed in the conference room.”

Giles always looked forward to swapping stories with fellow marines, yet that was not a priority this morning. He followed her down a carpeted hallway to a room at the end of the hall.

His gaze was drawn to a woman holding a raven-haired baby girl. Light from wall sconces reflected off the tiny diamond studs in the infant’s ears. The fretful child squirmed, whined and twisted backward as she struggled to escape her mother’s arms.

He smiled, and much to his surprise, the baby went completely still and stared directly at him with a pair of large round blue eyes. She yawned and he was able to see the hint of two tiny rice-like teeth poking up through her gums. He couldn’t pull his gaze away from the baby girl. There was something about her eyes that reminded him of someone.

His attention shifted from the baby to the man seated at the head of the conference table. His premature white hair was totally incongruent to his smooth, youthful-looking face.

Giles smiled and nodded. “Good morning.”

“Good morning. I’m Preston McAvoy. Please excuse me for not getting up, Mr. Wainwright, but I’m still recovering from dislocating my knee playing football with my sons.” He motioned to a chair opposite the woman with the baby. “Please sit down.”

Giles complied, his eyes meeting those of the woman staring at him with a pair of incredibly beautiful hazel eyes in a tawny-gold complexion. He wondered if she knew she looked like a regal lioness with the mane of flowing brown curls with gold highlights framing her face and ending inches above her shoulders. A slight frown appeared between her eyes as she continued to stare at him. He wondered if she had seen him during his travels in the Bahamas, while Giles knew for certain he had never met her because she was someone he would never forget; she was breathtakingly beautiful.

Preston cleared his throat and opened the file folder on the table. He looked at Giles and then the baby’s mother. “I’m sorry when my assistant called to ask you to come in that she was bound by law not to tell you why you’d been summoned.” He removed an envelope from the folder and withdrew a single sheet of paper. His dark eyes studied each person at the table. “This is a codicil to Samantha Madison Lawson’s last will and testament.”

Giles went completely still. The name conjured up the image of a woman from his past who had disappeared without a trace. Now it was obvious he had not come to West Virginia for an update about a fellow soldier, but for a woman with whom he’d had an off-and-on liaison that went on for more than a year.

“Ms. Lawson, before she passed away,” Preston continued, “made provisions for her unborn child, hence named Lily Hope Lawson, to become the legal ward of her sister, Mya Gabrielle Lawson. Ms. Lawson, being of sound mind and body, instructed me not to reveal the contents of her codicil until a month following her death.” He paused and then continued to read from the single page of type.

Giles, a former marine captain who had led men under his command into battles where they faced the possibility of serious injury or even death, could not still his momentary panic. A tense silence swelled inside the room when Preston finished reading.

He was a father! The woman sitting across the table was holding his daughter. He had no legal claim to the child, but his daughter’s mother sought fit to grant him visitation. That he could see Lily for school and holiday weekends, Thanksgiving, Christmas and one month during the summer, while all visitations would have to be approved by Mya Gabrielle Lawson.

Giles slowly shook his head. “That’s not happening.” The three words were dripping with venom.

“What’s not happening?” Preston questioned.

“No one is going to tell me when and where I can see my daughter.”

“You’ve just been told.” The woman holding the child had spoken for the first time.

Chapter Two

Mya was certain the rapid pumping of her heart against her ribs could be heard by the others in the room. She hadn’t been able to move or utter a sound when the tall, black-haired man with piercing blue eyes in a suntanned face walked into the conference room. It had only taken a single glance for her to ascertain that the man was Sammie’s ex-lover and Lily’s father. He continued to glare at her in what was certainly a stare down. However, she was beyond intimidation because legally he had no claim over her daughter.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Giles countered in a low and threatening tone. “As Lily’s biological father, I can sue for joint custody.”

“If you do, then you will surely lose,” Mya countered.

Preston cleared his throat. “I’m afraid Ms. Lawson’s right, Mr. Wainwright. Legally, you have no right to the child. But look on the bright side, because it was the baby’s mother’s wish before she passed away that you could have a relationship with your daughter.”

Giles’s eyes burned like lasers when he turned to glare at Preston. “You fail to understand that a woman carried my child and neglected to notify me about it. Even though she’s gone, you’re allowing her to become the master puppeteer pulling strings and manipulating lives from the grave?”

Preston shrugged shoulders under a crisp white shirt. “Ms. Samantha Lawson must have had a reason for not informing you about the baby. I’m going to leave you and Mya alone, and I suggest you work out an arrangement that you both can agree on. Please keep in mind it’s what’s best for the baby.” Reaching for a cane, Preston rose to his feet and limped out of the office.

Lily began squirming again, and Mya knew it was time to feed her and then put her to bed. “We’re going to have to put off this meeting for another time because I have to get home and feed Lily.”

“I don’t have another time,” Giles said. “The sooner we compromise, the better it will be for all of us.”

A wry smile twisted Mya’s mouth. Spoken like a true businessman. She wanted to tell him it wasn’t about compromising. The terms in the codicil did not lend themselves to negotiating a compromise. “That’s not possible now because I’m going home.”

“Then I’ll go with you.”

Mya went completely still, and she stared at Giles as if he had taken leave of his senses. Did he actually expect her to welcome him, a stranger, into her home as if she had offered him an open invitation? “You want to come home with me?”

He cocked his head at an angle. “I don’t hear an echo.”

Her temper flared. “You cocky, arrogant—”

“I know I’m an SOB,” he drawled, finishing her outburst. “Look, Ms. Lawson,” he continued in a softer tone. “Up until a few minutes ago I had no idea that I was a father. But if Samantha had told me she was carrying my child, I would’ve made provisions for her and the child’s future.”

Mya scooped the diaper bag off the floor and looped the straps over her shoulder. “In other words, you wouldn’t have married Sammie, because you weren’t ready for marriage and fatherhood. She wouldn’t tell me your name, but she did open up about your views on marriage and children.” Mya knew she had struck a nerve with the impeccably dressed businessman when he lowered his eyes. Everything about him reeked of privilege and entitlement. His tailored suit and imported footwear probably cost more than some people earned in a month.

“What’s the matter, Mr. Wainwright? You see a little girl with black hair and blue eyes and suddenly you’re ready to be a father? What happened to you asking for a paternity test?”

Giles’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t need a paternity test because Lily looks like my sister.”

“If that’s case, then you can save some money,” Mya mumbled under her breath. Suddenly she realized she wasn’t as angry with Giles Wainwright as she was with her sister. Sammie had completely blindsided her with the codicil.

Giles rounded the table and took the large quilted bag off Mya’s shoulder. “Please let me help you to your car.”

Mya resisted the urge to narrow her eyes at him. At least he’d said please. She walked out of the room, Giles following as she cradled Lily to her chest. Fortunately for her, the baby had quieted. She had parked the Honda Odyssey in the lot behind the office building.

Pressing a button on the remote device, she opened the door to the minivan and placed Lily in the car seat behind the passenger seat. She removed the baby’s hand-knitted sweater and buckled her in.

“We’ll be home in a few minutes,” she crooned softly as Lily yawned and kicked her legs. She closed the door and turned around to look for Giles. He was nowhere in sight. Where could he have gone with the diaper bag?

“Are you looking for this?”

She turned to find him standing on the other side of the vehicle, holding the bag aloft. Bright afternoon sun glinted off his neatly barbered inky-black hair. Closing the distance between them, she held out her hand. “Yes. I’ll take it now.”

Giles held it out of her reach. “I’ll give it back to you when you get to your house.”

She didn’t want to believe he was going to hold the bag hostage. Mya bit her lip to keep from spewing the curses forming on tongue. She wanted the bag, but more than that she needed to get her daughter home so she could change and feed her and then into her crib for a nap.

She knew arguing with the arrogant man was just going to delay her. “Okay,” she conceded. “Follow me.”

She flung off Giles’s hand when he attempted to assist her into the van. The man was insufferable. She couldn’t understand how Sammie was able to put up with his dictatorial personality. It was as if he was used to giving orders and having them followed without question.

Mya hit the start-engine button harder than necessary. Lily’s father was definitely working on her very last frayed nerve. She maneuvered out of the parking lot, not bothering to glance up at the rearview mirror to see if he was following her.

Mya’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel at the same time she clenched her teeth. She knew the anger and frustration she’d unleashed at the man who’d just discovered he was Lily’s father was the result of Sammie keeping her in the dark as to her child’s paternity; repeated attempts for her to get her sister to disclose the identity of the man who’d gotten her pregnant had become an exercise in futility. It was a secret Sammie had taken to her grave.

And why now? Mya mused. What did Sammie hope to prove by waiting a month after her death to disrupt not only her life, but also Lily’s and Giles Wainwright’s? She decelerated and took a quick glance in the rearview mirror to see a black town car following her minivan.

* * *

Giles closed his eyes as he sat in the back of the sedan. Samantha was dead and he was a father! What he found incredulous was that they’d never made love without using protection. And to make certain he would not father a child, Giles had always used his condoms, because he did not trust a woman to claim she was using birth control when she wasn’t. And while he had been forthcoming when he told women he’d slept with that he wasn’t ready for marriage and fatherhood, he never said he did not want a wife or children. It was just that the timing wasn’t right, because after serving his country for ten years as a captain in the Marine Corps, he found difficulty transitioning to life as a civilian.

Giles opened his eyes and stared out the side window. Towering trees growing close to one another nearly blotted out the sunlight, while a series of waterfalls washing over ancient rocks had probably given the town its name. The mountainous landscape appeared untamed, forbidding. It was a far cry from the skyscrapers, crowded streets, bumper-to-bumper traffic and the sights and sounds that made his hometown so hypnotically exciting. He sat straight when the driver turned off into a long driveway behind Mya’s minivan.

He leaned forward. “Don’t bother to get out,” he ordered the driver. “I’m not certain how long I’m going to be inside.”

“I’ll wait here, Mr. Wainwright.”

Giles reached for the colorful blue-and-white-patterned diaper bag. He was out of the town car at the same time Mya had removed Lily from her car seat. The baby’s head rested on her shoulder.

Looping the straps of the bag over one shoulder, he gently gathered Lily from Mya’s arms. “I’ll carry her.” He met Mya’s brilliant catlike eyes, not seeing any of the hostility she had exhibited in the law office.

“Thank you.”

He followed her up the porch steps to a house he recognized as a modified Louisiana low-country home. As a developer, he had gotten a crash course in architectural styles and he favored any residential structure with broad porches welcoming the residents and callers with cool shade. Tall shuttered windows and French doors were representative of the French Colonial or plantation style.

Admiring the house with twin fans suspended from the ceiling of the veranda, the white furniture, and large planters overflowing with live plants did not hold as much appeal as the small, warm body pressed to his chest. He lowered his head and pressed a kiss on her silky curls. The distinctive scent associated with babies wafted to his nose, a pleasing fragrance that reminded him of the times he’d held his nephews.

His previous declaration that he wasn’t ready for fatherhood no longer applied, because the child in his arms was a blatant reminder that he had to get ready. He and Samantha engaging in the most intimate act possible had unknowingly created another human being. Even before sleeping together, he and Samantha had talked about marriage and children and he was forthcoming and adamant that he wasn’t ready for either.

And when he’d walked into the conference room and had seen the infant for the first time, there was something about her that reminded him of someone, and within minutes of the attorney reading the contents of the codicil, Giles knew that someone was his sister. Lily had inherited Skye’s raven-black hair and blue eyes. Giles, his mother, his sister and his cousin Jordan were the dark-haired anomalies among several generations of blond Wainwrights.

He watched Mya as she unlocked the front door; she tapped several buttons on the wall to disengage the house’s security system. He stared at her delicate profile, wondering what was going on behind her impassive expression. She and Samantha may have been sisters, but there was nothing physically similar that confirmed a familial connection. Samantha had been a petite, curvy, green-eyed blonde, while Mya was tall, very slender, with a complexion that was an exact match for the gold strands in her chestnut curls.

She held her arms out for the baby. “I’ll take her now.”

Giles handed her the sleeping infant and then the bag. “What are you going to do with her?”

“She needs to be changed, and then I’m going to give her a bottle before I put her to bed.”

A slight frown appeared between Giles’s eyes. “It’s lunchtime. Aren’t you going to give her food?” he asked. Mya had mentioned having to feed her.

Mya shook her head. “No. I’ll give her a snack after she wakes up. The bottle will hold her until then. Make yourself comfortable in the family room. I’ll be back and then we’ll talk about what’s best for Lily.”

Giles felt as if he had been summarily dismissed as he stared at Mya’s narrow hips in a pair of black tailored slacks. He walked over to a pale-pink-and-white-pinstriped sofa and folded his tall frame down.

Everything about the space was romantic and inviting, beckoning one to come and sit awhile. He admired the floor plan with its open rooms, high ceilings and columns that matched the porch posts. French doors and windows let in light and offered an unobstructed view of the outdoors. Wide mullions in the off-white kitchen cabinet doors were details repeated in the home’s many windows. The tongue-and-groove plank ceiling, off-white walls, kitchen cabinets, cooking island and breakfast bar reflected comfortable family living.

Family. The single word reminded him that he now had a family of his own. A hint of a smile tilted the corners of his mouth when he thought of his daughter. Then within seconds his smile vanished when he realized he had no legal claim to her. The lawyer had indicated Samantha was of sound mind and body when she drew up her will and then added the codicil, but Giles wondered if she actually had been in her right mind. It was obvious Samantha had died, and he wondered if she had known she was dying?

Giles knew he could challenge the will and authenticate his paternity. He had the resources to hire the best lawyers in the country to sue for sole or joint custody with Mya. Lily may be a Lawson, but she was also a Wainwright. And Giles wasn’t above using his family name and wealth to claim what belonged to him.

He rose to his feet when Mya reappeared. She had exchanged her slacks and man-tailored blouse for a pair of skinny jeans and an oversize University of Chicago T-shirt. Thick white socks covered her bare feet. She had brushed her hair off her face and secured it in a ponytail. Giles found that he couldn’t pull his gaze away from the small, round face with delicate doll-like features. He retook his seat after Mya sat opposite him on a chair.

“How old is Lily?” he asked; he decided he would be the one controlling the conversation.

“Seven months.” Her eyebrows lifted slightly. “How well did you know my sister?”

Giles was taken aback by Mya’s question. “What do you mean by how well?”

Mya crossed her arms under her breasts at the same time she crossed her outstretched legs at the ankles. “I know you were sleeping with her, but what else did you know about her?”

“Apparently not enough,” he countered flippantly. “Maybe I was mistaken, but I thought she told me she was from a small town in Virginia, not West Virginia.”

“You were mistaken because we’ve never lived in Virginia. What else do you know about her? Did she ever talk to you about her parents or her family?”

Giles cursed under his breath. He wanted to be the one to interrogate Mya, yet unwittingly she had turned the tables on him. “She told me her parents were dead, but nothing beyond that. Most times we talked about the places she had visited as a flight attendant, while I wasn’t very forthcoming about my time in the military because I did not want to relive some of what I’d seen or done.”

Mya’s expression softened as she angled her head. “Were you deployed?”

He nodded. “I managed to complete a couple of tours in Afghanistan.”

“Thank you for your service.”

Giles nodded again. Suddenly he was reflective. Now that he thought about it, there wasn’t that much he had known about Samantha Lawson, except that he enjoyed whatever time they had spent together whenever she had a layover in New York, which wasn’t that often.

“Samantha and I did not spend a lot of time together,” he admitted. “She would call me whenever she had a layover in New York and there were occasions when we’d just go out for dinner. She loved the theater, so if she had a few days to spare, I’d purchase tickets for whatever play she wanted to see.”

“But you did sleep with her.”

“Yes. And I always used protection.”

Mya lowered her arms. “Sammie told me you did. But we both know the only form of birth control that is one hundred percent foolproof is abstinence.”

A wry smile twisted Giles’s mouth. “I’m fully aware of that now.” He sobered. “You claim that you and Samantha are sisters, yet you don’t look anything like her.”

“That’s because we were both adopted. Our parents couldn’t have children, so they decided to adopt. They adopted me first, and then two years later they adopted Sammie. My sister spent all of her adult life searching for her birth mother and that’s probably the reason why she wanted me to adopt Lily, so I would be able to tell her everything she would need to know about her mother. When she found out she was having a girl, she selected the name Lily Hope, after her favorite flower and Sammie’s hope she would someday find her mother. My sister spent hours writing letters to her unborn baby and making recordings so Lily could hear her voice.”

Sadness swept through Giles as he attempted to deal with all that his former lover had planned for their daughter. “Please answer one question for me, Mya?”

“What is it?”

“Did Samantha know she was dying?”

Mya averted her head. “Yes. When she discovered she was pregnant, she was also diagnosed with Stage IV breast cancer. Chemotherapy couldn’t be given during throughout her pregnancy, so she had to wait until after the baby was born for radiation and hormonal therapy. However, during her second trimester she did undergo a mastectomy, but by the time she delivered Lily the cancer had spread to her liver and lymph nodes. Even though she never complained, I knew she was in pain. In the end, I hired a private duty nurse to take care of her because she refused to go to hospice. The nurse made certain to keep her comfortable, and several days after Lily turned six months old, Sammie passed away. And when she’s older, I’ll show Lily where her mother and grandparents are buried.”

Giles felt as if someone had reached into his chest and squeezed his heart, making it nearly impossible for him to draw a normal breath. He hadn’t found himself in love with Samantha, yet if he had known she was sick, he would have been there for her even if she wasn’t carrying his child. “I’m so sorry.”

Mya exhaled an audible sigh. “She’s at peace now.”

He leaned forward, hands sandwiched between his knees. There was something he had to know before he decided his next move and he hoped Mya didn’t construe it as heartless. “Was Samantha of sound mind and body when she drew up her will?”

“Are you thinking of challenging her will because you don’t believe she was in her right mind?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” he argued softly.

“That’s exactly what you’re saying,” Mya said in rebuttal. “There was nothing remotely wrong with Sammie when she drew up her will. She refused to tell me who had fathered her child, and I didn’t understand her reasoning until Mr. McAvoy mentioned your name. Sammie did reveal that she was sleeping with a wealthy New York businessman, and when I finally heard the name Wainwright I understood her reluctance to tell me, because you probably would’ve talked her into having an abortion so as not to besmirch your family name when the word got out that you had a baby mama.”

Giles covered his face with his hand, unable to believe what Mya was saying. “Is that what you really think?” he asked through his fingers.

“It’s not what I think, but how Sammie felt. I know she withheld the fact that she had your child, but in the end she did redeem herself with the codicil. She didn’t want Lily to spend her life looking for her father as it had been with her and her birth mother.”

“What about you, Mya? Do you intend to raise Lily as your daughter?”

With wide eyes, she stared at him. “I will raise her as my daughter. I’m not only her legal guardian, but also her adoptive mother. I’m the only link between Lily’s past and her future, so if you’re thinking about suing me for custody, then I’m prepared to fight you tooth and nail for my daughter.”

Giles went completely still. He had underestimated Mya. There definitely was fire under her cool demeanor. “There’s no need to fight each other when we both want what’s best for Lily.”

“And that is?”

“For her to grow up loved and protected.”

“And you don’t think I’ll be able to love and protect her, Giles?” Mya asked.

He smiled. “I don’t doubt you will, but she needs to grow up knowing she has a father.”

“She will, because Sammie has granted you visitation.”

“How many times a year? And don’t forget a month in the summer.”

“Being facetious will definitely not endear you to me, Giles.”

“I don’t intend to be facetious. I’m just repeating the terms of the codicil.”

* * *

Mya closed her eyes. The verbal interchange was beginning to wear on her nerves and give her a headache. Not only was Giles strong-willed but he was also relentless in his attempt to undermine her sister’s decision to conceal her pregnancy from him. The Wainwright name was to real estate as Gates was to Microsoft, and Samantha, knowing this, had attempted to make provisions for Lily that would prevent her from becoming a legal football between the Lawsons and Wainwrights.

“I’m not your enemy, but if you keep pushing me then I’ll become your worst nightmare. I’m willing to grant you more liberal visitation than what Sammie stated in her will. And that means I’m not opposed to you taking Lily to New York to meet your family, but not without me. Wherever she goes, I go along.”

“I don’t have a problem with that.”

Mya was mildly shocked he would agree to her terms. “You’ll have to let me know in advance because she has scheduled doctor’s appointments.”

“What about you, Mya? What about your work schedule?”

“My schedule is flexible, because I’m now a stay-at-home mother. I resigned my teaching position once Sammie moved back home.”

“What and where did you teach?”

“Comparative literature at the University of Charleston.”

He mentally filed away this disclosure. “Do you miss teaching?”

“A little, but I love being with Lily.” Mya didn’t tell Giles that working at home allowed her to pen her novels in her spare time. “When are you going back to New York?”

A beat passed. “Tomorrow morning. Once I get back I’ll have to rearrange my work schedule before I return. I’m going to give you several numbers where you’ll be able to reach me. Jocelyn Lewis is my administrative assistant. So if you call my office, make certain you identify yourself and she’ll put you through to me.”

Mya stood, Giles also rising with her. “I’m going to get my phone so you can program your numbers into it.”

Reaching into his shirt pocket, Giles handed Mya his cell phone. “You do the same with your contact info.”

Her thumbs moved quickly over the keys as she tapped in her name, address, cell and landline numbers, along with her email address. She retrieved her phone from where she had left it on the dining room table and gave it to Giles.

“How many numbers do you have?” she asked when he took an inordinate amount of time tapping keys.

“Three. I’m giving you my cell, the number at the office, and the one in my apartment.” Glancing up, he winked at her. “You can always send me a text if you need me for anything. And I do mean anything.”

Mya stared, momentarily speechless. The warmth in his voice and the tenderness in his expression made her fully aware of why her sister had been taken with him. Not only was he urbane, but also unquestionably charming when he chose to be.

She smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind if I do need you for something.”

Giles returned Mya’s phone to her. “I’ll call you once I make arrangements to return. You don’t have to see me out,” he said when she made a move to walk him to the door.

Mya met eyes that shimmered like polished blue topaz. “Safe travels.”

He inclined his head. “Thank you.”

* * *

Giles settled himself into the rear of the car. He had revised his plan to remain in Wickham Falls for more than one day. Scrolling through his phone directory, he tapped Jocelyn’s number. She answered after the first ring.

“I need you to arrange for a flight back to New York for tomorrow morning out of the regional airport.” The regional airport was a shorter distance from his hotel. “And please call my mother and let her know I would like to see her tomorrow night at seven. Be certain to let her know dinner will be at my place.”

“Consider it done.”

“Thank you, Jocelyn.”

He had asked Jocelyn to contact Amanda because Giles did not get to see his mother as often as she would like. Unlike her other son, Giles’s position took him out of the country, and he wanted to tell her in person that she had another grandchild—and this time it was a girl.

And while he wanted to wait for Lily to wake up from her nap to see her again, he knew Mya needed time to accept that she would now have to share her daughter with him. Putting distance between them would also help him to try to understand why Samantha had elected not to tell him about the baby.

Had she viewed him as someone who had used her for only for sex? Did she not trust him to take care of her and the baby? Or had she denied him his parental rights because she knew he had been adamant about not wanting to marry or father a child?

There was one more person he wanted to call, but he decided to wait until after he checked into the hotel.

If Samantha hadn’t told him about the baby, then he wondered if there were other things she’d sought to conceal from him. Not only did he intend to have Samantha’s background dissected but also her sister’s. And if anything negative about either of them surfaced, then he was prepared to bring holy hell down on Mya to secure full custody of his daughter.

Chapter Three

Giles settled into a hotel suite less than an hour’s drive from a regional airport. After checking in, he changed into a swimsuit and swam laps in the indoor pool. Once he had showered and changed into a pair of walking shorts and a rugby shirt, he ordered room service.

A ringtone on his phone indicated a text message from Jocelyn:

Return flight scheduled for departure at 1:00 p.m. tomorrow at Tri State Airport. Ground transportation confirmed. Confirmed dinner with your mother

Giles responded with: Thank you.

He could always count on Jocelyn to simplify his life. Once he had set up the company’s international division, Giles couldn’t convince his older brother to run the department with him. Patrick had declined because, as a husband and now a father of two young boys under the age of six, he claimed he didn’t want to be away from his family even if it was only for a week.

Patrick also professed he preferred working with their father in the legal department to jetting off to exotic climes, leaving Giles to ponder how much longer he would be able to maintain a one-man operation. Several third-generation Wainwrights cousins were still undecided whether to come and work for the company. He had made them generous offers to come and work with him, yet they still were ambivalent about becoming involved in the real estate business.

He finished his lunch and left the tray on the floor outside the door. Walking across the room, he flopped down on the king-size bed and reached for the cell phone on the bedside table and dialed the number to Jordan’s cell phone. It rang four times before going directly to voice mail. He decided not to leave a message. Either Jordan was in court or with a client. He made another call, this time to his cousin’s office.

Jordan had always teased Giles, declaring they were the family outsiders. Jordan and his law school mentor had gone into partnership, setting up Chatham and Wainwright, PC, Attorneys at Law. The firm was housed in a brownstone in Harlem’s Mount Morris Park Historic District. Despite his reputation as a brilliant corporate attorney, Jordan refused to work for the family business, while Giles had opted for the military rather than join the company once he’d graduated college.

“Good afternoon, Chatham and Wainwright. How may I direct your call?”

“I’d like to speak to Jordan Wainwright.”

“May I ask who’s calling?”

“Giles Wainwright.”

“Hold on, Mr. Wainwright. I’ll see if he’s available to take your call.”

“Thank you.” He didn’t have to wait long before he heard Jordan’s familiar greeting.

“What’s up, G?”

Giles smiled. Jordan was the only one in the family who referred to him by an initial. “I’d like to hire your firm to conduct a background check on a couple of people.” A swollen silence followed his request.

“Why are you asking me when your legal department can do it?”

“I’m asking you because what I’m going to say to you should stay between us. Attorney-client privilege,” he added.

“What’s going on, Giles?”

He knew he had gotten Jordan’s attention when he addressed him by name. Giles was completely truthful when he told Jordan everything—from sleeping with Samantha, the phone call asking him to come to Wickham Falls, West Virginia, and to the revelation that he was now the father of a seven-month-old little girl and the rights extended to him as her father.

“That’s really a low blow,” Jordan drawled.

Giles smiled in spite of the seriousness of the situation. “I agree. I need to know everything about Samantha Madison Lawson and Mya Gabrielle Lawson. Both were adopted, so I don’t know how far back you’ll be able to go.”

“I’ll have the investigators begin with their adoption records and go forward from there. Is there anything you’ve noticed about the aunt that would make her unfit to be your daughter’s mother?”

“Not really. We spent less than an hour together. Her home is clean and tastefully furnished, and she claims to have taught college-level literature.”

“Does she appear financially able to raise and educate the child until she is emancipated?” Jordan asked.

Giles stared up at the ceiling. “I don’t know. That’s what I need for your people to find out.” Although Mya drove a late-model vehicle, it wasn’t in the luxury category. He also had no idea if Samantha had life insurance, and if she did, if Mya had been her beneficiary. His concern was how she was supporting herself as a stay-at-home mother.

He had called Jordan because he knew he would never divulge what Giles had just told him. However, Giles knew he owed it to his parents—his mother in particular—to let her know that they had another grandchild.

“Are you prepared to accept the results if they come back clean?”

“I’ll have to accept it, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop fighting to claim my daughter.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to give up,” Jordan continued, “because I would do the same if I were in a similar situation. What I wouldn’t do is antagonize your daughter’s mother. Try to remain civil with her and perhaps she’ll come around and allow you more involvement in the baby’s life.”

“That’s what I’m hoping will happen.” Giles paused. “Do I have an alternative if the background checks yield nothing? What can I use to sue for at least joint custody?”

“Your only other option would be charging her with neglect. You’ll have to be able to prove that the child has failed to thrive, that she doesn’t get the medical care she needs, or if you’ve witnessed any verbal or physical abuse. I’ve never handled a child abuse or neglect case, but Aziza has. Although she’s well versed in the family court system, I don’t want to involve her in this because she’s so close to her due date. Maybe after the baby’s born and if she feels up to it, I’ll ask her to look into this for you.”

“When is she due again?”

“October 5. The doctor says the baby could come a week before or a week after that date.”

“You still don’t know if you’re having a girl or a boy?”

“No. We want to be surprised.”

“Have you narrowed it down to names?”

“We’re leaning toward Maxwell if it’s a boy and Layla if it’s a girl.”

“I like those names.”

His cousin and his wife were given the privilege of selecting names for their unborn baby, while he’d had no say in naming his daughter. Every time he thought about Samantha’s deception, it served to refuel his anger.

“Look, G, I’m going to hang up because I have a client waiting for me. And don’t worry about the background checks. I’ll have the investigators get on it ASAP.”

“Thanks, Jordan.”

“No need to thank me. Talk to you later.”

Giles ended the call and rested his head on folded arms. He would take Jordan’s advice and not do anything to antagonize Mya because she held all of the cards when it came to Lily’s future. At least for now.

What she wasn’t aware of was his intent to use any and everything short of breaking the law to claim his daughter.

* * *

The following evening Giles opened the door to his apartment and waited for his mother to emerge from the elevator.

Amanda Wainwright stepped out of the car, her smile indicating she was as pleased to see him as he was her. It was a rare occasion when Giles saw his mother without a fringe of hair sweeping over her ears and forehead. Tonight she had styled her chin-length, liberally gray-streaked black hair off her face. She was conservatively dressed in tailored taupe slacks she had paired with a white tailored blouse. She was hardly ever seen in public without her ubiquitous navy blazer, Gucci loafers and the magnificent strand of South Sea pearls and matching studs she had inherited from her grandmother.

There had been a time after graduating college and before he’d joined the marines when they had rarely spoke to each other. However, that changed when Giles called to inform his mother he was being deployed to Afghanistan. After all, he’d owed it to her to let her know he would be going into combat.

That single call changed him forever. It had taken days before he could forget the sound of her heartbreaking sobs. He apologized for severing all communication with her, while she apologized for interfering in his life and attempting to control his future. He returned to the United States after his first tour, shocking his parents when they opened the door to find him in uniform grinning ear to ear. The homecoming signaled a change in their relationship. He was still their son, but he had also become a decorated war veteran.

“Hello, gorgeous.”

An attractive blush suffused Amanda’s fair complexion with the compliment. Giles had been truthful. His mother’s stunning beauty hadn’t faded at sixty-four. It was her tall, slender figure, delicate features, coal-black hair and vibrant violet-blue eyes that had attracted Patrick Wainwright II, who married her after a whirlwind courtship; a year later, they had welcomed their first child.

Amanda rested a hand on Giles’s light stubble. “You are definitely your father’s son. You always know what to say to make a woman feel good.”

Giles kissed her forehead. “You have to know by now that I never lie.” He threaded their fingers together and led her through the foyer and into the expansive living-dining area.

She pointed to the dining area table set for two. “You cooked?”

He seated his mother on a love seat and dropped down next to her. “Surely you jest,” he said, smiling. His many attempts to put together a palatable meal had resulted in either over-or undercooked dishes that always ended up in the garbage. In the end, he preferred eating in or ordering from his favorite restaurants or gourmet shops.

“I ordered from Felidia. It should be here in about twenty minutes.”

Amanda gave Giles a long stare. “Why did you order in? You know I love eating there because the place reminds me of a little ristorante Pat and I discovered when we were in Bologna.”

“I decided we’d eat in because I need to talk to you about something.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re going to rejoin the military.”

Giles dropped an arm over his mother’s shoulders and hugged her. “No. What I want to tell you shouldn’t be disclosed in public.”

Amanda’s eyelids fluttered as the natural color drained from her face. She rested a hand over the pearls. “Please don’t tell me something that’s going to hurt my heart.”

He shook his head. “It’s something you claim you’ve been wishing for. You now have a granddaughter.”

Giles knew he had shocked his mother when her hands trembled, but then she quickly recovered and cried tears of joy. Waiting until she was calmer, he told her everything he’d disclosed to Jordan. He left out the fact that he wanted his cousin to conduct a background check into the lives of his daughter’s mother and adoptive mother.

Amanda sniffled as she opened her handbag and took out several tissues. “What are you going to do?” she asked, after blowing her nose.

“I’m going to take the legal route to claim my daughter.”

“You claim you have visitation, so when can we expect to meet her?”

Giles recalled the designated holidays outlined in the codicil. “It probably won’t be until Thanksgiving.”

A crestfallen expression crossed Amanda’s face. “That’s more than two months from now.”

“I know, Mom. I’m hoping to convince Mya to bring her before then.”

“Who else knows about this?”

“Just you and Jordan,” he admitted.

Amanda rested her head on her son’s shoulder. “I’d rather not say anything to Pat right now, because he’s probably going to go ballistic and go after this poor girl who had no idea what her sister was planning.”

Giles pressed a kiss to his mother’s hair. “You’re right.” There was nothing his father liked better than a legal brouhaha. “Then this will remain between you, me and Jordan for now.” The chiming of the building’s intercom reverberated through the apartment. “That’s probably our dinner.”

He answered the intercom. The doorman announced a delivery from Felidia. “Please send them up.”

Two hours later, Giles escorted his mother to the street, waited for her to get into a taxi and stood on the curb watching as it disappeared from his line of vision.

It was as if he could exhale for the first time in more than twenty-four hours. Talking to his mother, and her decision not to tell her husband temporarily assuaged his angst over attempting to explain the circumstances of him becoming a father.

Giles shook his head to rid his thoughts of the possible scenarios Patrick could employ to make Lily a Wainwright, because he intended to use his own methods to get what he wanted. If he was able to get a judge to rule in his favor to grant him joint custody, then he would happily comply with the law to share his daughter with Mya.

The sidewalks were teeming with locals and tourists in sweaters and lightweight jackets to ward off the early autumn chill. Giles, not wanting to return to his apartment, walked along Second Avenue to Forty-Second Street, stopping at intervals to do some window-shopping before reversing direction and heading back uptown. The walk had been the antidote to release some of his anxiety about reuniting with Mya and hopefully agreeing to what was best for Lily.

The night doorman stood under the building’s canopy. “Have a good evening, Mr. Wainwright.”

Giles nodded and smiled. “You do the same, Raoul.”

During the elevator ride to his floor, Giles mentally mapped out what he had to accomplish before returning to Wickham Falls. He knew it was time for him to give Jocelyn more responsibility if he was going to be away for any appreciable length of time. And that meant she would have to accompany him during his next trip to the Bahamas.

* * *

Mya sat on the porch, bouncing Lily on her lap. Giles had called to inform her he was in Wickham Falls and for her to expect him to arrive at her house before one that afternoon.

It had been three weeks since their initial meeting, and she had resigned herself to accept him as Lily’s father. If Sammie hadn’t wanted her daughter to have a relationship with her father, then she never would’ve added the codicil.

She had gotten up earlier that morning to put up several loads of laundry, give Lily breakfast and followed with a bath. After dressing her, she spent fifteen minutes reciting nursery rhymes. Mya knew Lily was more than familiar with many of the words and would be able to repeat them once she began talking.

Her daughter had become quite a chatterbox when she babbled about things Mya pretended to understand, while their favorite games were patty-cake and ring around the rosy. Now that Lily was standing up while holding on, Mya would gently pull her down to the floor when she sang the line “they all fall down” in “Ring Around the Rosie.”

Mya went completely still when she registered the sound of an approaching car. The vehicle maneuvering up the driveway wasn’t a town car but an SUV with New York plates. And as it came closer, she noticed a car seat.

Mya held her breath when Giles got out and waved to her. He looked nothing like the well-dressed man who had questioned her late sister’s decision not to grant him custody of their daughter. Relaxed jeans, a sweatshirt with a fading USMC logo and running shoes had replaced the business attire.

She rose stiffly, as if pulled up by a taut overhead wire, and waited for his approach. He hadn’t shaved and the stubble afforded him an even more masculine quality.

At first, she had asked herself why her sister had put up with him, but seeing him like this, Mya realized Giles Wainwright was not a man most women could ignore at first glance. Piercing blue eyes and balanced features made for an arresting face. He was tall, several inches above six feet, broad-shouldered and appeared in peak physical condition.

Giles slowly made his way up the porch steps, stopping only a few feet from her.

“Hello again.”

An unconscious smile parted Mya’s lips. “Welcome back. How long do you plan to stay?”

Giles met her eyes. “I don’t know. It’s open-ended, so I checked into an extended stay hotel.”

Her smile faded. “What do you mean by open-ended?”

“I may have to go to New York for a few days for meetings, but once they’re concluded I’ll be back.

Her jaw dropped. “Oh I see.”

“Hopefully you do, because it’s going to take a while for Lily to get used to seeing me, so I’m prepared to take as much time as necessary to bond with my daughter.”

His reference to Lily being his daughter was not lost on Mya. Biologically the baby was his daughter, but legally Lily was hers. “I’m not opposed to you bonding with my daughter,” she countered, smiling. “And if there is anything I can do to speed up the process, then please let me know.”

She knew she had shocked him with the offer when he gave her a long, penetrating stare. It was apparent he hadn’t expected her to be that cooperative. His gaze shifted to Lily.

“May I hold her?”

“Hold out your arms and see if she’ll come to you.”

* * *

Giles extended his arms, and much to his surprise Lily leaned forward and held out her arms for him to take her. He smiled at the little girl looking up at him. “She looks different from when I last saw her.” Her hair was longer and there was a hint of more teeth coming through her upper gums.

Mya leaned against the porch column and crossed her arms under her breasts. “I’m able to see her change even though I’m with her all the time. Right now she’s teething, so she’s drooling on everything.” As if on cue, Lily picked up her bib and gnawed on it.

Giles shifted his attention from Lily to Mya. He marveled that a woman without a hint of makeup and wearing faded jeans and a white T-shirt and socks could appear so incredibly sensual.

“How old is she now?”

“She turned eight months two days ago.”

He quickly did the math. “Her birthday is February 5?”

“Yes.”

“Our birthdays are four days apart. Mine is February first.”

“That’s quite a coincidence.” Mya turned and opened the storm door at the same time Lily let out a piercing scream. “That’s her way of telling me she wants to be changed. In fact, it’s time for her afternoon nap.”

Giles followed Mya inside the house and sniffed the air. “Something smells good.”

Mya glanced at him over her shoulder. “I’m making pot roast. You’re more than welcome to stay for dinner.”

He stared at the denim fabric hugging her hips and smothered a groan. Giles knew it wasn’t going to be easy to completely ignore the woman with whom he would spend time whenever he came to see Lily. Everything about her turned him on: her face, body, hair, softly modulated voice with a hint of a drawl and then there was the way she stared at him. It was as if she knew what he was thinking or going to say before he spoke.

Jordan had come up with nothing—not even a parking ticket—in Samantha and Mya’s background for him to use as leverage to bolster his case if and when he decided to sue her. The only alternative was to watch for signs of neglect, and watching Mya closely was definitely going to become a delightful distraction.

“I’d like that very much. Do you cook every day?”

“Yes, because I have to prepare meals for Lily.”

Giles slipped out of his running shoes, left them on the thick straw mat near the door and followed Mya through the living room and up a flight of stairs to the second story. “You don’t buy baby food from the supermarket?”

“No. I’ve heard stories about jars of baby food being recalled because of foreign objects, so I decided it’s safer and healthier to prepare her food myself. I’ll cook carrots, beets, spinach or sweet potatoes and then purée them to a consistency where she can swallow without choking.”